I walked out into the square and looked around. Nearby on my left GUM-the old state department store-was teeming with life. On my right were the battlements of the Kremlin wall, with the pyramid of Lenin's Mausoleum rising up in front of it. Could that be where I was being led?
No, not there. And that was good. No matter what people in Russia felt about their former leader, it was a sin to disturb the peace of the dead. Especially of those who had died irrevocably, forever-he wasn't an Other… and it was a good thing he wasn't.
I walked across the square without hurrying. A line of official government cars snaked out of the Kremlin and tore off into the side streets. The Execution Site greeted me in silence. The statue of Citizen Minin and Prince Pozharsky watched as I walked by. The bright-painted domes of St. Basil's Cathedral breathed a sigh.
Power. Power. Power…
There was so much of it here that an Other who had exhausted himself could restore his strength in moments.
But nobody would ever do anything of the kind, because it was strange, alien Power. It belonged to no one. It was unruly and uncontrollable, the Power of the past centuries. The Power of dethroned czars and general secretaries of the Communist Party. Touch it and it would blow you to pieces.
I looked around yet again.
And I spotted him.
The Inquisitor.
It's impossible to confuse an Inquisitor with anyone else, either Light Ones or Dark Ones, let alone an ordinary human being.
The Inquisitor was looking straight at me, and I couldn't understand why I'd only just noticed him now.
He was alone, completely alone, outside and above any worldly balances of power, alliances, and treaties. He embodied Justice and the Inquisition. He maintained Equilibrium. I didn't need to ask what he was there for.
I walked right up to him.
"You did right not to disobey," said the Inquisitor.
Somehow I knew his name was Maxim.
He reached out his hand and said, "The Talon."
There was no imperious tone to his voice, not even a hint of pressure. But I had no doubt that anyone would obey that voice, up to and including the chief of either of the Watches.
I reached gloomily inside my sweater, with obvious regret.
The Talon was seething, processing the surrounding Power. The moment I held it in my hand I was swamped by a dense wave of it. The Power given to me by the Talon rushed into every cell of my body; it felt as if the whole world were ready to go down on its knees and submit to me. To me. The owner of Fafnir's Talon.
"The Talon," the Inquisitor repeated.
He didn't add anything else or tell me not to do anything stupid. The Inquisition is above giving meaningless advice.
But I was still hesitating. How was it possible to give up voluntarily a source of such inexhaustible Power? An artifact like that was every Other's dream!
I automatically noted the redistribution of energy as a Light portal opened up nearby. Of course, it was Gesar, the chief of the Moscow Night Watch.
The Inquisitor didn't react to the appearance of the unexpected witness. Not at all. As if no portal had even opened up and no one had surfaced out of the Twilight.
"The Talon," the Inquisitor repeated for the third time. The third and last. He wouldn't say another word. I knew that.
And I also knew that even if all the Dark Ones of Moscow appeared beside me, it wasn't worth trying anything. They wouldn't help me. On the contrary, they'd take the Inquisitor's side. The intrigues played out around the Talon could only continue until the guardians of the Treaty put in a personal appearance.
I squeezed my eyes shut and drew in as much Power as I could hold within myself, almost choking on the pressure. With a trembling hand, I held out the case with the artifact in it to the Inquisitor. As I did so, I could just sense the vague desire that Gesar was struggling to control-to dash forward and take possession of the Talon. But naturally, the chief of the Night Watch didn't move a muscle. Experience is primarily the ability to restrain our fleeting impulses.
The Inquisitor glanced at me. I probably ought to have read satisfaction and approval in his glance: Well done, Dark One, you didn't flinch; you did as you were told, clever boy.
But I couldn't see anything of the kind in the Inquisitor's eyes.
Not a thing.
Gesar was gazing at us with open curiosity.
Without hurrying, the Inquisitor put the case with the Talon into the inside pocket of his jacket and then disappeared into the Twilight without even saying goodbye. I stopped sensing him instantly. Instantly. The Inquisition has its own paths.
"Ha," said Gesar, looking away to one side. "You're a fool, Dark One." Then he looked straight at me, sighed, and added: "A fool, but clever. And that's remarkable."
Then he left too, quietly this time, without any portal. I could still sense him for some time in the deeper layers of the Twilight.
I was left on Red Square, out in the piercing wind, alone, without the Talon after I'd already got used to its Power, with no warm clothes, still wearing the same sweater, trousers, and shoes, and my hair was as tousled as a film actor's in some dramatic solo scene. Only there weren't any viewers to appreciate this fine shot, now that Gesar had gone on his way too.
"You really are a fool, Vitaly Rogoza," I whispered. "A clever and obedient fool. But then, maybe that's the only reason you're still alive?"
But the person inside me suddenly came to life and reassured me: Everything's happening as it should. You did the right thing by getting rid of Fafnir's Talon. I was overwhelmed by such a blissful, unshakeable certainty that I was right, that I even stopped feeling the cold, piercing wind.
Everything was just fine. Everything was right. Children shouldn't play with atom bombs.
I twitched my shoulders, turned around, and strode off in the direction of Tverskaya Street. I'd only gone a few steps when I came across the entire top level of the Day Watch (the only ones missing were the magician Kolya and-naturally- the chief), plus about fifteen mid-level agents, including Anna Tikhonovna's young witches, three vampire brothers, and a rather stout werewolf. The entire company was staring at me like idle bystanders gaping at a penguin that has escaped from the zoo.
"Hi," I said in a surprisingly cheerful voice. "What are you all doing here, eh?"
I'm getting carried away again, I thought miserably. Oh-oh…
"Tell me, Vitaly," Edgar asked in an odd, unnatural voice, "why did you do that?"
His attention was distracted for a second as he diverted an over-vigilant militiaman who was all set to approach a gathering that he thought looked suspicious. Then his gaze returned to me: "Why?"
"Do the Dark Ones really need a pointless fight? Do they need pointless casualties?" I said, answering a question with a question, like some joker from Odessa.
"I think he's lying," Anna Tikhonovna said aggressively. "Maybe we should probe him?"
Edgar frowned gloomily, as if to say: How can we probe him? So they were already afraid of me in the Day Watch! Would you believe it!
"Anna Tikhonovna," I said, addressing the old witch in a sincere voice, "Fafnir's Talon is an incredibly powerful destabilizing element, capable of disrupting the balance of Power like nothing else. If it had stayed in Moscow, a bloody battle would have been inevitable. As a law-abiding Other, I accepted the Inquisition's verdict and gave back the Talon. That's all I have to say." I was keeping quiet about the Power that had settled in me after my contact with the Talon-until the right time came. "Surely you wouldn't have done anything else?" I added, realizing that no one would dare object to that. All of them had wanted to touch the artifact… to draw Power from it… And all of them had been afraid of the consequences of doing it.
"Why don't we go back to the office?" the magician Yura growled. "Instead of standing around in the wind like the three poplars on Plushchikha Street in the old film."
His words made a lot of sense-I was beginning to shiver again, and it would have been
unforgivably stupid to waste the Power that I'd stored up.
With Edgar's support, Yura called up an economical portal, and two minutes later the entire Watch had already ridden the elevator up to the office in groups. I couldn't help remarking that my portal would have been more stable and would have worked for longer. Apparently I'd moved up another step on the stairway to nowhere when I parted with Fafnir's Talon. And apparently I was now more powerful than everyone else there, taken together. But I was still as inexperienced and naive as ever, and I still had to learn the most important thing of all: how to use my Power properly.
The technicians, led by the unsleeping Hellemar, were working away hard on their headquarters notebooks. When the hell did these young guys ever rest? Or was it just that they all looked alike?
"What's going on, Hellemar?" Edgar asked.
"The Light Ones are withdrawing their outposts," the werewolf reported cheerfully. "One after another. Not just changing them, but removing them completely. And they've lifted the cordons at the entrances to the city and the railroad stations."
"They've calmed down," sighed Anna Tikhonovna.
"Of course they've calmed down," Yura snapped. "The Talon's gone now. They've probably already transferred it to Berne. In fact, I'd bet on it."
He was right. A few seconds earlier I'd sensed the source of my Power suddenly disappear into the Twilight and move somewhere far, far away. I wondered if I was fated ever to hold it in my hands again just one more time… I didn't know…
"For the life of me, I don't understand why all this fuss over the Talon was started in the first place. What were the Regin Brothers trying to achieve? Why didn't they let us know what they were doing? It's all some kind of crazy nonsense, absolute nonsense."
"And what makes you so sure the Regin Brothers didn't achieve their goal?" I asked innocently. They looked at me as if I were a child who'd asked an awkward question in adult company.
"You have a different opinion?" Yura inquired cautiously, exchanging a quick glance with Edgar.
"Yes," I said honestly. "Only don't ask me about the details- I don't know them anyway. There was a serious imbalance of Power developing in Moscow in favor of the Light Ones. So serious that Europe was beginning to feel worried. Measures were taken. The Regin Brothers' escapade is one piece of a jigsaw that will eventually add up to a new equilibrium."
"And your appearance is another piece of the jigsaw?" Edgar surmised.
"Obviously."
"And the absence from Moscow of Zabulon, our chief?"
"Probably."
The Dark Ones looked at each other, wondering.
"I don't know about that," Anna Tikhonovna drawled in a displeased tone of voice. "It all looks pretty strange. If we had the Talon, we'd soon have the Light Ones in a corner."
"But would we be able to keep it under control?" Yura remarked.
"I don't know…"
"In any case," said Edgar, after thinking for a while, "we still have the right to demand satisfaction from the Light Ones. There were several serious interventions committed. What they've done over the last two days goes way beyond the recent killings. Tiunnikov's death should really be classed as an accident, and if Gesar tries to dispute that, the tribunal will soon demolish all his arguments. And the vampire poacher and the shape-shifting hooker aren't such very serious violations, only sixth level, or fifth at most. They were acting independently, the Day Watch had nothing to do with it… Now we have the right to demand several second-level interventions at least. That's what I think… So in the final analysis the Day Watch has still come out best from everything that's happened. Even without the chief and his powerful support."
"Better hold the fanfares for a while," Yura remarked skeptically. "Wait and see."
Edgar shrugged and spread his arms in the gesture of a man sticking to his own opinion. He really believed what he'd just said. And I could understand him.
There's no way of knowing how the argument would have ended. The cell phone on Edgar's belt trilled and everyone automatically turned toward him.
It could have been a private call, or a call from the technical section. But the Others gathered together in the office were pretty powerful. Almost all of them were capable of calculating probabilities and the consequences of very simple events.
This call had a dense central thread that was clearly visible. A thread connecting it to events of supreme importance.
Edgar raised the phone to his ear and listened for a while. "Show him through," he said, then canceled the call and put the cell back on his belt. "An Inquisitor," he said with a stony expression, "with an official announcement."
Less than thirty seconds later the warlock from the duty watch opened the door into the Day Watch main office. And a second after that the impassive Inquisitor called Maxim strode in through the doorway.
There was absolutely no emotion or other coloration in his voice; his tone was strictly informative. And it would have been stupid to suspect an Inquisitor of sympathizing with one side or the other. "In the name of the Treaty," he declared, "tomorrow at dawn there will be an extended session of the local board of the Tribunal, under the patronage of the Inquisition. The subject is a number of actions taken by Light Others and a number of actions taken by Dark Others which are incompatible with the stipulations of the Treaty. Attendance is compulsory for all who have been informed. If anyone who has been informed fails to attend or arrives late, it will be regarded as an act incompatible with the stipulations of the Treaty. Until the session starts all magical interventions at the fifth level of Power and above are prohibited. May Equilibrium triumph."
When he finished his speech, the Inquisitor turned around unhurriedly and walked out into the lobby, to the elevators. The warlock cast a fleeting glance at his superiors and closed the door behind him. He regarded it as his duty to show the Inquisitor out. The office was quiet for a while; even the technicians and their notebooks had fallen silent.
"Just like in '49," Anna Tikhonovna remarked quietly. "Exactly the same."
"Let's hope so," the magician Yura said in a low voice. "Let's hope so, Anna Tikhonovna. Let's hope real hard."
Chapter five
–«¦»-
Everybody gets the feeling sometimes that what is happening just at the moment has already happened before. There's even a special term for it, deja vu, a kind of false memory.
The Others have it too.
Night Watch agent Anton Gorodetsky was standing in front of the door of his apartment and struggling with his memories. He had hovered in front of this open door in exactly the same way before, wondering who could have got inside. And when he went inside that time, he'd discovered that his uninvited guest was his sworn enemy, the chief of the Day Watch, known to the Light Ones by the name of Zabulon.
"Deja vu," Anton whispered and stepped inside the door. The defense system remained silent again, but there was definitely a visitor in the room. Who was it this time?
Anton squeezed his talismanic medallion tightly in his hand as he entered the room.
Zabulon was sitting in an armchair and reading the newspaper Arguments and Facts, wearing a severe black suit, a light-gray shirt, and black shoes with blunt, square toes, polished so that they shone like mirrors. He took off his spectacles. "Hello, Anton."
"Deja vu…" Anton muttered. "Well, hello."
Strangely enough, this time he wasn't scared of Zabulon at all. Maybe that was because the last time Zabulon had conducted his surprise visit in an entirely correct manner?
"You can take my amulet. It's in the desk-I can sense it."
Anton let go of the talisman hanging round his neck, took off his jacket, and went across to the desk. Zabulon's amulet was hidden in among some papers and all the other office clutter that inevitably seems to appear out of nowhere.
"Zabulon, you have no Power over me," Anton declared in a voice that didn't sound like his own.
The Dark magician nodded in satisfaction. "Excellent. Allow
me to compliment you. That other time you were trembling like a withered leaf. But today you're calm. You're growing, Anton."
"I suppose I ought to thank you for the compliment?" Anton asked coolly.
Zabulon threw his head back and laughed soundlessly.
"All right," he said a few seconds later, "I see you're in no mood to waste time. Well, neither am I. I came to offer you the chance to commit an act of betrayal. A small, calculated act of betrayal from which everyone will benefit, including you. Sounds paradoxical, doesn't it?"
"It does."
Anton looked into Zabulon's gray eyes, trying to understand what trap he'd fallen into this time. Trust a human being half way and a Light One a quarter of the way, but don't trust a Dark One at all.
Zabulon was the most powerful-and therefore the most dangerous-Dark One in Moscow. And probably in the whole of Russia.
"Let me explain," said Zabulon, without hurrying, but not hesitating either. "You already know about tomorrow's session of the Tribunal, do you not?"
"I do."
"Don't go to it."
Anton finally decided to sit down, on the divan by the wall. Now Zabulon was on his right.
"And for what particular reason?" Anton inquired.
"If you don't go, you and Svetlana will stay together. If you go, you'll lose her."
Anton felt a sudden burning sensation in his chest. It wasn't a question of whether he believed Zabulon or not. He wanted to believe him. He wanted to very much.
But he couldn't forget that Dark Ones can't be trusted.
"The leadership of the Night Watch is planning yet another global social experiment. You must know that. And Svetlana has been given a rather important role in this project. I shan't try to change your convictions or win you over you to the Darkness-that's an entirely hopeless proposition. I shall simply tell you what the danger of realizing such an experiment is: the disruption of the balance of forces. Obviously a rather desirable thing for the side that grows stronger. In recent times the Light has been growing stronger and, naturally, I don't like it. It is in the Day Watch's interest to restore the equilibrium. And you are the one who can help us."
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